


Patience

by SuperWhoLockianFangirl



Series: Conversations with a Cannibal [5]
Category: Criminal Minds, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Concerned Hotch, Creepy Hannibal, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockianFangirl/pseuds/SuperWhoLockianFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hannibal begins writing Spencer letters, Hotch becomes worried about Reid's continued visits to Baltimore and forbids him to go back to the hospital. Hannibal, however, knows that this won't be the last he hears of Spencer Reid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> I think this series might be screwing with my ability to writing anything else. My muse has become obsessed.

“Reid, can I speak with you for a minute?” Hotch’s voice was brisk as he passed by his subordinate in the hall early that morning. Most of the team wasn’t even in yet, but Reid generally showed up early, usually only beaten to the office by Hotch.

Cautiously, Reid followed Hotch into his office and sat when his boss motioned to the seat across from his desk.

“Is something wrong?” Reid looked a bit anxious, wondering if Hotch had somehow picked up on his recent struggles with his addiction again. It really wasn’t a big deal – he’d managed to stay clean and was going to the NA meetings almost religiously. It was more an unspoken agreement that as long as Reid was managing things, no one would acknowledge his former drug use.

Hotch pursed his lips tightly and Reid had to fight the urge to fidget under his stern gaze.

“The FBI received this letter this morning,” he said slowly, holding up and envelope. From where he was sitting, all Reid could make out was a neatly written address; the words were too hard to make out.

“…From the Baltimore Hospital for the Criminally Insane,”

Reid’s heart skipped and sucked in a sharp breath. Dr. Lecter.

“Hotch, I –”

“I thought I told you to stop the custodial interviews with Lecter after he refused to cooperate,”

Reid sighed, “You did, but -”

“Then why did Morgan tell me you’ve been eight times in the past several months? Why is Lecter writing to you? Reid, do you understand how dangerous this man is?”

Reid frowned, “I know, Hotch,” he said, “but he’s talking to me. He isn’t throwing flippant answers in my face or just refusing to speak altogether. I can get him to open up if -”

“Lecter is manipulative, Reid,” Hotch’s voice was hard and angry and Reid knew he’d crossed a line he probably shouldn’t have. “This isn’t the first time he’s taken an interest in an FBI agent and after what happened with Will Graham -”

“I’m not Will Graham, Hotch,” Reid scowled, “I have the advantage of already knowing that Hannibal Lecter is a killer.”

“That doesn’t make you immune to manipulation,” Hotch said, “I don’t want you to go back to the hospital, alright?”

“You can’t control what I do on my own time, Hotch!”

“No, but I can talk to the Chief of Staff and recommend that you not be allowed access to Lecter because it’s obvious you’re getting too close.”

“Hotch, I -”

“End of discussion,” Hotch said, “I’m not going to let you put yourself at risk.”

“We’re just having conversations -”

“Reid,” Hotch’s voice was a tense warning, his dark eyes meeting Reid’s steadily. The young agent sighed and looked down at the envelope on his desk.

“Can I at least have the letter?”

Hotch hesitated, frowning at him for a long moment. He didn’t want to pass over the letter, but he didn’t have any real reason beyond personal worry that prevented Reid from having it.

Reid snatched it away as he held it out to him.

“Was that it?”

Hotch didn’t like how hostile Reid sounded, but he nodded slowly, “That’s it.”

Reid nodded, a quick, jerky movement, and walked briskly out of the office, clutching the letter between tight fingers.

* * *

It was nearly two week after he’d sent the letter that he got the phone call from Spencer. Hannibal had wanted to see the young agent in person, but hearing his slightly quivering voice over the speaker was good enough, he supposed.

“It’s good to hear from you again, Spencer,” he said, “I hope you’re alright. Did you get the letter I wrote you?”

He could hear the faintest sound of paper rustling and wondered if Spencer were looking at his letter at that very moment. He smiled and closed his eyes, imagining those wide, expressive eyes trailing down his neatly written letter. His brow would pucker, his lips would part and his breathing would speed up deliciously.

He imagined Spencer would run his long fingers over the page, perhaps through his hair. Hannibal inhaled sharply, calling to memory the scent of Spencer’s fear and confusion.

“I got it…” Spencer’s voice pulled him out of the fantasy, “Why did you send it?”

“It gets rather lonely in here, Spencer,” Hannibal said. “The other patients are hardly the best conversationalist and I don’t care for Dr. Chilton’s particular brand of conversation. I was hoping that you would write me back.”

“…I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dr. Lecter,” Hannibal could hear reluctance in Spencer’s voice and he smiled brightly. The young man was smart enough to see the strings of Hannibal’s manipulation, but not quite sure how to cut them off.

“Why not?” Hannibal asked, “I hardly see the harm in having interesting conversations, Spencer.”

“I’m an FBI agent,” it sounded very much like Spencer was rationalizing and Hannibal couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “It’s a bad idea for me to be so… involved with you, especially considering your past history with the FBI.”

“We are simply having conversations,” Hannibal repeated, “It has been too long since I’ve been able to have an intelligent conversation.”

“Unless you’re going to discuss your crimes and answer my questions, I don’t think we’ll be speaking again, Dr. Lecter.”

There was a note of finality in Reid’s lilting voice, but Hannibal knew better than to believe that the young agent had seriously decided to end their conversations on his own.

“You supervisor is worried for your safety,” he said.

“He has good reason to be worried,”

“Hardly,” Hannibal laughed, “I am in a cage, Spencer. There’s very little chance of any harm coming to you through me.”

“I think we both know you’re lying,”

He grinned, “Perhaps. But I do enjoy our talks, Spencer,”

He could swear he heard Spencer murmur the words, “I do too,” but they were soft spoken and he could not be entirely certain that they weren’t simply the product of his own imaginings. He had been locked up for far too long.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Lecter, but I think you’re going to have go back to relying on Dr. Chilton for your conversations.”

He hung up, but Hannibal was certain that this was not the end. Spencer was nothing if not determined. He hadn’t willingly chosen to end their sessions and he would no doubt find a way to return to his cell. It may take him a while, but Hannibal could be patient. He had worked very many, many long months to break Will Graham and he could wait as long as it took to get Spencer back to him.

As he settled back at the desk in his cell, Hannibal pulled out his pen and a fresh sheet of paper, preparing to write another letter to his Spencer.

* * *

**-end-**

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all mistakes are my own. Any thoughts, comments or critiques are welcome!


End file.
